Wonder of wonders, I’m back for another round. 😉 It must be the lure of those fifty extra words. Here are the simple directions:
Feel free to stroll around using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.
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For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.
Many thanks to K Rawson for hosting.
The following story is a rework of an old story. I thought perhaps the addition of fifty words might help it along. I also think this one will be lengthened at a later date. Still rolling it around my head.
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 150
On Black Tuesday Pop lost his Wall Street job.
He sold everything of any value except Mom’s prized antique vase, our phonograph and his clarinet.
We moved from our Park Avenue apartment to a shabby house in Buffalo. Pop found employment as a night janitor.
One Sunday afternoon, drawn by phonograph music, I wandered into his room. Hunched over, he held a gun to his temple.
I screamed and knocked it from his grasp.
It discharged. The bullet ricocheted off the wall, whizzed through my hair and shattered Mom’s vase.
“Forgive me.” He crushed me against his chest. “I’ve forgotten what’s really important.”
After that Pop found solace playing his “licorice stick.” He delighted our neighbors at backyard barbeques.
At Mom’s urging, he auditioned for a local swing band. From 1935 to 1962 they toured the Borscht Belt.
His zest for life was contagious.
Incidentally, Mom never mentioned her vase.
Probably not Pop’s band, but thrown in for flavor.